


Reprieve

by Oriki-Miitad (Sneaking_UnicornWitch)



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Force Shenanigans, Ghost Company are Chaos Gremlins - But Sneaky About It, Hair Brushing, I Love My Clone Dads, M/M, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Not Beta Read &c &c, Post-Battle Chilling By The Fire, Soft Dad Waxer, Swearing, Tales of the Temple, Wooley's Stupid Hair, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sneaking_UnicornWitch/pseuds/Oriki-Miitad
Summary: "They’re safe for the moment, a battle hard won but with few enough casualties that the mood is light rather than dour."***The 212th have a drink after a battle, and their General regales them with tales and Force tricks. Waxer watches on.
Relationships: Boil/Waxer (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 22
Kudos: 247





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> I am soft™ for these dudes.

Waxer is sat with his arm around Boil, on a log near a fire burning bright, shoulders bumped close. It’s jetting out green sparks from the alien wood-adjacent fuel and sputtering softly.  _ Apparently _ it’s safe as long as the sparks don’t turn blue, though quite how Cody knows that is above Waxer’s nonexistent paygrade. General Secura’s men passed through here on a previous campaign, so it’s probably something to do with The Nerd. 

They’re safe for the moment, a battle hard won but with few enough casualties that the mood is light rather than dour. 

Close by, the General chats low with a couple of the newer members of the company while Cody next to him nods at something Longshot and Wooley have said.

General Kenobi’s face is alive, two flushed points high on his cheeks, a far cry from his ashen appearance when the fighting had ceased. Whether the change is due to the Commander sitting close, pressed tight just like Boil is to him, or the metal cup of liquid he’s gesticulating with, Waxer wouldn’t like to bet. Much. 

They’re only drinking rotgut, usually stored in the footlocker that they always mysteriously can’t find the key for whenever there are inspections, and while Waxer is sure the General must be used to classier alcohol, he’s keeping pace with the troopers all the same. 

About the only positive thing that can be said for the stuff is that it won’t kill you. Made in a collaboration between Crys and a vod down from engineering who’s very good at making sure things don’t explode unless they want them to, it’s a lethal drink. Sure, Torrent’s got a reputation for mayhem, but Ghost is just very good at hiding the chaos. No one ever expects carnage from the Marshal Commander’s men, and they intend to keep it that way. 

There had been an experimentation with flavouring it only once, and it’s now kept a very neutral taste with only the  _ faintest _ trace of tibanna. According to Sinker, General Koon quite likes it, which frankly makes Waxer more scared of Kel Dorian biology than anything else he’s learned about the man. 

Having let his mind drift, body and soul warm for once, Waxer is brought back to the moment by a pointy-as-all-kark elbow to his unarmoured side. He’s about to scruff Boil for it when a head jerk pulls his attention to the General. All around vode are listening intently as Kenobi talks to the group at large. He’s not slurring his words at all but his movements are far more open than they normally are, and the usual perfect posture is slanted to one side - drooping onto Cody. 

Cody doesn’t look too bothered by it. One of his hands is lost to view, and he’s watching the General as if he hung the stars. Even if nothing else happens tonight, Waxer sets himself a mental reminder to tamp down whatever rumours any of his men might have the stupid idea to start spreading. 

He’s lost the conversation again, and shakes his head as if it’ll shake off his descent into drunkenness. He wants to remember this, force-dammit.

From the sounds of it he’s missed most of a retelling of a prank war in the General’s youth. 

“... of course Bant managed to get the both of us back. I’m not sure entirely how she knew it was us, but I suppose it goes to show you don’t mess with a healer.”

“Damn right!” shouts out Needle, whose left vambrace is decorated with a tally of the times he’s successfully executed a long-range hypo on any defiant members of senior leadership. It’s impressive, in a depressing kind of way.

One of Waxer’s new troopers -  _ Rush _ , he thinks to himself, armour less gleaming this side of conflict - sits himself down on the floor in front of him. He’s got hair far longer than Wooley’s but also a far less ridiculous hairdo. Rush passes him a brush, and Waxer gets to work brushing out the tangles. Quite when it had been decided that he was the ‘hair guru’ Waxer couldn’t begin to say, it’s not like he had chosen to have much personal experience with the stuff, but he does enjoy the feel of the strands under his fingers. 

Once the knots have been brushed out he carries on brushing a little longer to soothe, then hands the brush back. Starting at Rush’s hairline he plaits back, including more hair as he goes along, until all the hair’s been caught up in the pattern. Boil passes him a tie from one of his many mysterious pockets and Waxer ties off the plait then smoothes it all down. Lovely. 

Rush settles down, rather than getting up, and Waxer rests a hand on his shoulder. Time seems to be happening in fits and starts, because the General is now using his super-human Jedi Force osik to urge the smoke from the fire into shapes. Troopers are calling out suggestions, a very good recreation of Commander Wolffe’s scowling face becomes General Koon in a few short moments. 

“If nobody could tell Anakin about this, I’d appreciate it. I’ve given him so many lectures about inappropriate use of the Force and for some reason I think he’ll reckon this counts,” the General requests, and they all murmur their assent. They’ve got his back.

One vod’ika, obviously working a couple of shots behind, shouts out “General Ti!” before he’s dragged down into a shushing huddle of men. The younger ones had particularly taken to the Togrutan who guarded them from the longnecks. 

But sure enough montrals and lekku are visible, cast in a strange green light from the sparks still flying. The General never likes to disappoint. 

The troopers settle down again as Yoda takes form above the fire, one man asking, “Do you have any more tales, General? From your childhood, I mean? Happy ones.”

Kenobi’s got a sad look in his eye. Ah, a morose drunk then, Waxer says to himself. He drains his cup down, grimacing at the taste - Jango’s bones it’s awful stuff - as the General thinks. 

“Have I ever told you about the first paint fight we had in the crèche?” Kenobi asks, obviously picking a light-hearted story for a light-hearted evening. Every vod shakes their head, eager to hear more about their General as an adiik. 

“Master Sinube - a lovely man, one of the best investigators I know, makes great tea - always gave us a little too much in the way of freedom. He was Quinlan Vos’ clanmaster, charged with looking after the two clans while… it’s not important. Anyway, I can’t remember quite how it all started, but I don’t doubt Quin was the one to blame,” at this Cody gave a snort, “... but we had these huge canvases as barricades and were using the Force to throw paint at them, the room, each other...”

Waxer can imagine it, despite never having been in the jetii’s temple. Watching the General carry on telling them the tale, his eye catches on the Commander. His head keeps lolling to the side, almost but not quite resting on the General’s shoulder before jerking up again. His eyes are just barely open. Waxer nudges his thigh into Boil’s and points with his chin towards Cody. They share a meltingly sweet  _ aww _ under their breath. It’s been a long few days, and the Commander’s always been better at taking care of others than himself. 

He’s missed some of the story again, as Kenobi continues, “... fine until Master Windu walked in. I mean, he wasn’t Master of the Order yet, so I suppose it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but I can still remember time slowing between throwing the paint and Mace walking through the door.”

The General shivered before continuing, “We were all so scared, you’ve never seen a group of younglings so still. Big truth [1]. Master Windu marched us up to see the grandmaster - dripping paint as we went - and all Yoda said was something along the lines of ‘ _ all manner of teaching there must be, to learn the ways of the Force, hmm’  _ and ‘ _ your colour, purple is’ _ .”

There are laughs at Kenobi’s impression of Yoda, testament to the amount of alcohol drunk rather than his skill.

“Master Windu wasn’t pleased, of course. I think he was rather hoping that we’d at least get chewed out for it, but even he knew you don’t argue with the Grandmaster. Yoda must have had some words with the masters in the crèche because while we were still allowed to have paint fights, they weren’t ever as poorly supervised after that. Master Sinube was never involved, either.”

“And with that, gentlemen, I think it’s time for us to retire. Please, no explosions or injuries. Or at least, don’t get caught,” he finishes with a wink. Cody has fallen fast asleep on Kenobi’s shoulder, mouth open wide. Everyone suddenly becomes very busy doing anything else as the General shifts slightly, hand coming gently to the side of Cody’s face to wake him. Kenobi’s expression, half lit by the fire, is soft. Waxer sets a couple of extra alarms to his mental reminder from earlier. 

“General’s karked,” Boil says, with an extreme level of certainty, once the two of them have walked off to a tent.

“So is the Commander, in that case. Ori’vod never lets his guard down like that,” Waxer replies. 

Boil presses a kiss to his cheek, and Waxer turns to lose himself in the kiss, running his fingers through Boil’s short hair.

“Eww buir! Longshot, the dads are at it again!” Wooley interrupts, and Boil fires off a swear with a grin even as he’s pulling Waxer to his feet. 

They slip off towards his squad’s tent, bodies touching all the while. The alcohol and the battle have made his blood sing, and he’s got a while to enjoy some quality time with his bunkmate before his troopers disturb them. 

Waxer plans to make the most of it.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] I really like the idea of drunk Obi-Wan using Basic translations of Mando'a without necessarily realising it. It's something I do with French, unfortunately. Ori'haat, literally 'big truth', has the more sense-for-sense meaning of "It's the truth, I swear — no bull. 
> 
> All of the Mando'a should be 1) fairly usual for fic, 2) easy to find translations for (no new vocab from me this time!). But if anyone wants translations do let me know. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr [here](https://oriki-miitad.tumblr.com/), come say hi!


End file.
